


Research Assistant

by Bitterblue



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:53:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1692377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitterblue/pseuds/Bitterblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delphine Cormier is not one of the highest ranked researchers for Dyad because she is bad at finding information. S1E10 or thereabouts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Research Assistant

Dyad buys business class flights. It's one of the best things about them.

The words come back to her at inopportune moments (waiting in line for security, buying an overpriced coffee, settling into the comfortable seat on the plane).  _Yeah. It showed_ _._  There are a great many things Delphine Cormier regrets, many of them about Cosima, but the sting of those words echoing again and again in her head is the worst. It should be anything else. Regret for giving Leekie the information. Regret for agreeing to monitor in the first place. Regret for everything in between.

She's pretty sure she is a failure of a person that the thing she regrets most is that her stolen moment of peace with Cosima was not as perfect as it could have been.

The rest she can fix. Probably. Hopefully. She can try to win back Cosima's trust, prove she was working on her behalf, prove that these feelings are real for them both. But the  _sex_  thing. The I've-never-been-with-a-woman-before and  _it showed_  thing.

Delphine Cormier is not one of the highest ranked researchers for Dyad because she is bad at finding information.

The seatbelt light clicks off overhead. A stewardess stops by the arm of her chair, smiling.

"Could I get you a drink?

She sips wine as she waits for her laptop to connect to the onboard wifi, considering her options. Google is inappropriate, surely. She isn't completely certain, but Delphine strongly suspects that looking at porn outright would lead to uncomfortable questioning if someone saw her. Even if the business cabin is half empty, it isn't a risk she wants to take. Besides, porn would probably be unrealistic, a man's idea of what women should look like for his benefit. She isn't interested in performing for anyone but Cosima.

Chrome opens, and Delphine has an idea. It's a stupid idea, probably. She feels like she's been having a lot of stupid ideas lately. But, then, kissing Cosima had felt like a stupid idea until it very much  _wasn't stupid_ , so she's willing to try.

It's been a long time since Delphine has had free time enough to read for pleasure. Dyad is an all-consuming work environment, between her own research and, of late, Cosima. She thinks it was probably as an undergraduate that she last had the chance to read obsessively, not just a novel strung out between stolen moments while a centrifuge runs or a tigris analyzes samples. She thinks she should be embarrassed as she types her search into the laptop. It's childish. It isn't going to work.

"Merde," she breathes, eyes wide. The internet is full of Harry Potter lesbian pornography.

Some of it is terrible, which is fair, given the stories are written by amateurs who overuse commas. Some of it, though, is exquisite, fragile fragments of stories that feel at least as true as any novel she can recall. Delphine shifts in her seat, uncomfortably aroused from endless variations of the same words across her screen.  _Wet. Fingers. Tongue. Cunt._

The stewardess stops at her armrest, and if she can tell Delphine has spent the three hour flight reading explicit material, she doesn't show it in her face. "We'll be landing soon, please stow your laptop."

The air in Toronto is cold as Delphine stands outside the airport, her small bag at her feet, texting Cosima. She sighs and flags down a taxi, ignoring the driver after giving the address Cosima supplies. Without anything else to concentrate on, she finds herself blushing. She spent the whole plane ride looking at porn because she wants to convince a woman who probably hates her now that she loves her and can do so properly. Somewhere since meeting Cosima, she's gotten her priorities helplessly twisted. Then again, Cosima told her where she's staying. It's practically an invitation.

  
  
  


_I'm sick, Delphine_ _._  Intrusive thoughts, that's what she's having. Cosima's voice fills her mind until she can no longer think, no longer do anything but hold her and stroke her hair. It had started with  _Yeah. It showed._  and now  _I'm sick, Delphine_  and it isn't fair or right, but she'd take the latter any day. This is research she already knows how to do.

Delphine lets out a hiccupy laugh at her own idiocy, her face pressed into the join of Cosima's shoulder and neck. She makes a soothing noise as Cosima shifts, starting to pull back. "Non, non, pardonne, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Cosima pauses, then rests her forehead against Delphine's.

"I don't think laughing is quite the right reaction." She's trying to sound annoyed, but there is a hint of her own laughter somewhere in her tone. The whole situation is absurd.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you. It's just...I was thinking about researching."

She can hear more than see Cosima's smile. "Researching makes you giggle. Right. Noted, Dr. Cormier. You're a big weirdo and it shouldn't be cute."

Delphine leans back so she can look at her properly. Cosima's eyes are still damp, a little red, her glasses ghosted with the imprints of tears, but she  _is_  smiling. She shakes her head, dreadlocks resettling themselves about her shoulders. "God, what am I even doing?"

Blonde curls tumble to the side as Delphine tilts her head, considering her. "I think we are doing whatever makes you happy." Cosima gives her a sharp look, eyebrows raised. "I was laughing about research because it is  _funny_. Not you being sick, but I know how to do this research. I understand medicine. I understand where to go and what to look for and I can find answers. We can find them together. But, on the flight here, I kept thinking about what you said. Before you left." She shrugs eloquently. "It is very hard to research that sort of thing on a plane."

The gleam in Cosima's eyes should make Delphine nervous, but she's given up being nervous about a lot of things in the last twelve hours.

"You...tried to research lesbian sex. On a plane." She sounds incredulous.

"I had three hours to kill and I couldn't stop think--" Cosima's lips are on hers, ardent and sweet. Metallic. She tastes of blood and herself, a combination so intimate it makes Delphine's head spin. She parts her lips gladly as Cosima's tongue slides across them, leaning into her again.

"I think you'll find that this sort of thing goes better with a research assistant." It should be horrible. It should make them both blush and stop, because this isn't a game. Instead, Delphine finds she is grinning helplessly.

"Are you offering?"

"That depends, Dr. Cormier. I'm kind of looking for a full-time gig. Plus enough time to get my own work done on the side. I've got a lot of other research, you know?" She is guarded, even now, even with open delight in her smile. Delphine aches to be back in her trust.

"I think we can work something out, oui." Cosima's lips crash against her own again, teeth and tongue and still the taste of blood. Delphine is eager, hands finding Cosima's hips and tugging her into her lap. As she shifts, sliding her knees to either side of Delphine's hips, her skirt tangles and bunches around her thighs.  _Reading_ , Delphine thinks somewhere in the still coherent part of her brain,  _is one thing_. Cosima in her lap is entirely another.

She takes her time sliding her hands up Cosima's sides as they kiss. Last time had been rushed. She knows better, now.  Cosima's hips grind against hers, a faint rhythm Delphine thinks she will learn to feel even within her own heartbeat.

"So do you have, like, a major goal in this research?" Her voice is ragged, Delphine's lips dragging down across her neck and biting briefly at her pulse point. "An end-point? What's your null hypothesis?"

"Hmm," she breathes, worrying Cosima's earlobe with her teeth. "Goal is proof of concept. I'm learning how to, to, uh, to make you come because I can and it is inherently valuable information for me to have. No set end-point, though data collection is probably cyclical. I don't have to have a null. Don't have to." Her hands slip under Cosima's shirt, her skin hot under Delphine's fingers. Cosima laughs, leaning back enough to look at her.

"God, you're hot. I'm a fucking idiot, but you're really obnoxiously hot." She kisses Delphine again before she can protest. Her hands find Delphine's, and help push her shirt up further. "You'll need to undress me. I'm not doing the hard work for you this time." Delphine catches at the fabric and tugs it over her head. She hadn't had time, before, to properly examine every inch of Cosima's skin, an oversight she plans to correct. Cosima watches her, hand coming up to cup Delphine's cheek. "Hey. Why the serious face?"

"Tu est  _tellement_  belle," she breathes, pressing kisses across Cosima's collarbone and down her sternum. Her tongue slides along the edge of her bra, looking up to make sure this is still good. "My...my literature search, before, was very broad. I'd like to confirm I'm using the correct techniques for the context." Cosima smiles, threading her fingers into Delphine's hair and pressing closer to her mouth. Delphine's hands find the clasp of the bra and manage to undo it with a minimum of fumbling. She leans back, unsure, waiting for Cosima to remove it. They didn't even have time, before, in their rush to touch and Delphine's uncertainty.

"Very smooth. Impressively done, even. If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd been practicing." She grins, laughing, until Delphine is laughing, too. Cosima shrugs out of the bra. Before this moment, Delphine isn't sure she had a strong preference one way or the other about breasts, but now she is quite clear: Cosima's are perfection. "Give me your hands." Delphine lifts her hands, watching Cosima's face. She takes them by the wrists and guides them to her chest. "Touch me? You're the one who looked at a lot of porn. I'm sure you've got the idea."

Delphine's fingers are quick studies, teasing across her nipples and then away again. "It didn't have  _pictures_ , Cosima. I was in public."

"You were still doing...sex research in public. Anyway--fuck--" her breath catches as Delphine pinches, "fuck, fuck, uh, what  _were_  you looking at, then?" Another pinch, sharper, followed by Delphine's mouth, all lips and teeth and steady, sucking pressure.

"Does it matter?" She shifts to take the other nipple into her mouth, tongue quick against her skin. The noises Cosima makes are very gratifying. Delphine could do with  _those_  on an endless loop in her brain.

Cosima's eyes narrow, leaning away from her mouth even as her hips grind more insistently against Delphine's lap. "Well, now I'm  _curious_." Delphine shrugs, leaning forward to follow her and trail kisses across her ribs. Her fingers find the ends of Cosima's skirt, toying with the hem, already rucked up her thighs.

"I always thought Hermione and Ginny should have been a couple." The skin of Cosima's thighs is burning hot, or maybe it's Delphine's nerves that are on fire.

Cosima laughs above her, catching her in a sweet, heady kiss. "You researched how to fuck me via Harry Potter fanfiction?"

Delphine's fingertips shift up, and up, pressing against wet fabric. Cosima lets out a shaky breath, eyes closing. She watches her face as she finds the edge and slides one finger between ruined fabric and desperate skin. "I don't see you complaining, cherie."

"I think I, fuck, shit, I gave  _explicit_  instructions that you should undress me." She moves out of Delphine's lap to shimmy out of the underwear and skirt. She bites her lower lip, then moves back across her lap, straddling her hips again. "I suppose I can forgive you. Practical experience is better than a textbook any day." She takes Delphine's hand, bringing it to her lips, and delicately licks at the tips of her fingers. The noise Delphine makes is strangled and desperate, nothing like any noise she thinks she has ever made before. "Touch me again."

Her fingers are inside of Cosima without further encouragement, the heel of her hand pressing against her clit. She laughs again, and it makes her cunt squeeze around Delphine's fingers. "You really  _do_  want this. Me." She sounds surprised.

"I've, uh, I've thought of another potential end-point." Her forearm is beginning to tire. She's going to need a lot more practice. Cosima raises her eyebrows, steadily riding her fingers, her hands back in Delphine's hair. Delphine shifts and flicks her clit with her thumb. Cosima groans, shuddering.

"Yeah?" She leans against Delphine, pressing hard against Delphine's hand and thigh, kissing every bit of skin within reach.

"Yeah. You to stop being surprised that I want you." Delphine kisses her, biting down slowly on her lower lip until Cosima comes, groaning into her mouth. She soothes her lip, tongue gentle, and tastes blood again. If Cosima notices, she doesn't indicate so, breathing hard and still shuddering.

"I don't think," she finally breathes against Delphine's mouth, "that that's going to be a very good end-point. I mean, we're going to need a lot more research. A lot. Like, a whole lot. And we can break it into smaller problems, too, you know? First question: how are you still wearing clothes?"


End file.
